Shirley Temples and Midnight Conversations
by FFcrazy15
Summary: B.J., worried that he may give into temptation, comes to Fr. Mulcahy for advice. F*L*O*C*K 4077 piece.


Disclaimer: don't own, don't profit, no copyright infringement intended.

**M*A*S*H**

It was just after midnight, and the officer's club was empty save for me. I was alone, trying to work out the chords to _Be Thou My Vision_; even the bartender had turned in for the night, with my promise to lock up when I left.

The door opened suddenly, and I started, looking over. A tall, lean figure stumbled in "B.J.?" I said, surprised. "It's late; shouldn't you be asleep?"

The doctor gave a half-hearted shrug and staggered over to the barstool. "Can you get me a drink, Father?" he muttered.

"I'm not sure I should; you seem like you're in a bad way." I frowned, standing and walking over behind the bar. "In fact, you look pretty drunk already."

B.J. gave a noncommittal grunt and slumped against the wood. I pursed my lips, worried, and started making him a Shirley Temple, unsure whether the doctor could hold an alcoholic drink at the moment. As I handed it to him, B.J. swirled the red liquid around, looking at it but not drinking at it.

"B.J.," I said, sitting down on the stool on the other side of the bar and leaning against the wooden counter. "You seem… rather unhappy. Is something wrong?"

There was a long silence, and then the doctor sighed. "You know that I almost slipped up awhile back."

I nodded gently. "You told me as much." Shortly after the incident with Nurse Donovan, the doctor had confided in me, heartsick and guilty.

"Well…" He stirred the drink with the tip of his finger, staring down at his reflection in the liquid. "I'm afraid it'll happen again. This time for real."

I bit my lip. These sorts of situations were never easy but, unfortunately, were quite common. "And why is that?"

Instead of answering the question, B.J. said, "Can I ask you something, Father? Something sort of personal, I mean."

"Certainly."

"Are priests ever, you know… tempted?" He finally looked up, nervousness in his eyes.

"From time to time," I admitted. "I don't think we'd be human if we weren't."

"What about you? Have you ever- ever-" He looked back down, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's alright. I've never been unfaithful to my calling, if that's what you mean, but certainly I've… found myself attracted to one young lady or another." I cleared my throat, a little embarrassed myself. "Why is it you think you may become unfaithful to Peg?"

"Well there's this- there's this new nurse that just arrived a few days ago, you know Margaret requisitioned a few. I knew I liked her, as a person I mean, but then I began to _like_ her. And when she started flirting with me I realized the feeling was mutual."

"Does she know you're married?" I said, frowning.

"I think so, but you know how things go. Half the people here are married or engaged, and they're still fooling around. Oh, I know that doesn't make it right, but…" He sighed. "It just gets so damn lonely, you know? I miss Peg like the dickens. Sometimes, if I close my eyes, she seems so close, close enough to reach out and touch her hair, hear her laughing… singing… God, I miss her..." His voice trailed off into silence as his eyes stared at the wall, seeing something I couldn't see, before he returned to the present, looking back at me. "And every morning I have to wake up to a world where the woman I love more than anything isn't in bed beside me. You know what I mean?" He chuckled bitterly at my expression. "Well. I guess not."

"I do understand what you mean about loneliness," I replied honestly. "Out here, surrounded by so much horror and fear, the ache for human comfort can at times be quite strong."

"What do you do," the doctor asked slowly, "When you find yourself falling for one of the nurses?"

"Well… usually, when I recognize the attraction, I try to distance myself from the woman in question, at least emotionally. It's somewhat painful at the beginning, but the feelings do eventually fade on their own."

"So what should I do?" B.J. asked, a plea in his voice. "What _can_ I do?"

"Well first off, you should tell her that you are a very happily married man, and that you intend to be faithful to your wife," I advised. "I think sometimes people associate the idea of chastity closer to a priest than to a married man because we wear our rings around our necks instead of on our fingers, but the promises you made to Peg in marriage are as important and sacred as those I made to God through Holy Orders, and you have the right to keep them."

"What if she doesn't buy it?"

"Then she'll have to be disappointed. Sin is a choice, B.J., and you don't have to make it. In any case, it would be best if you limited your time with her, at least until this passes. And if you ever need someone with a similar situation to talk to…"

"Why do you think I came here tonight?" he replied with a snort. "Hawkeye's no help at all, gallivanting around with every woman from here to Tokyo General."

"Hit the nail right on the head," I said dryly.

He chuckled a little at that and knocked back the Shirley Temple. "Thanks for the advice, Father," he said, standing up.

"Anytime." I hesitated, and then say, "There is one last thing that may help."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Prayer," I said simply. "Don't forget that even the Lord was tempted, B.J.; He knows what you're going through. Ask Him for help."

"Does that really work?"

"It always has for me."

He smiled wryly. "Alright, I'll give it a shot. Thanks again, Father."

"You're very welcome. Goodnight, B.J." I hesitated, and then added, "I'll be praying for you."

The smile became one of gratefulness, and he nodded his unspoken thanks, before turning for the door.

I watched as the man left the bar, now a bit steadier on his feet, and then began to clean out the empty glass, sighing. Yes, I understood temptation and loneliness well enough, but I'd never known the heartache of being a world away from a beloved wife and child. And, judging by the haunted, sorrowful look in B.J.'s eyes, I thanked God that I would never have to.


End file.
